Illegal Activity
by writer1900
Summary: "I'm far underdressed for the autumn chill, and normally would just take the secret entrance back to Hogwarts. But today, I want people to see me, just in case anyone ever questions I was here. Not that they will, of course. Who would suspect a fourth-year Hogwarts student capable of impersonating Head Auror Harry Potter, or being the most notorious criminal in the magical world?"


It's dark in the cave. Green light of the fire flickers off the walls, giving the damp space a creepy vibe. Luckily I'm pretty used to creepy.

I crouch low behind a rock, keeping sure to stay in its shadow so that my own doesn't give me away against the wall. It's even cooler behind rock, and combined with the dampness of the moss that seeps its way into my nostrils and fills them with the raw scent of the ocean, goosebumps make their way across my arms.

"Look, we know you're in here! Just come out now and we can talk about this!" The voice of Harry Potter, youngest and most talented Head Auror in history, cries in that earnest, honest, way of his.

Merlin - he's so _good,_ so pure and innocent in his fight for the light side even when he's years older than I am, it almost makes me feel bad for how I'm about to screw him over.

"Talk about what? My life sentence in Azkaban?" I respond, my voice distorted by a voice-altering charm that's grade-levels above where most people my age can cast.

In fact, I'm pretty sure it's a charm restricted to being taught to Aurors... It really is amazing what sort of spells you can learn if you poke around a bit. Hogwarts is full of secrets, especially dirty ones.

"Look, we can do this the easy way or the hard way," Harry Potter says, his tone trying to sound tough but edging on annoyed. "You can come out now and give us the books, or me and my highly-trained team of more than fifty Aurors can storm in and take them form you, forcefully. We know you have them, and I know you know we're telling the truth, and I know you know you can't possibly fight off fifty Aurors by yourself. And we know you're by yourself, too. So come on out,"

"Alright," I say, my voice still heavily distorted. I'm making it sound obviously changed on purpose, just to bug them about how little they know about me. I can practically taste Harry Potter's relief - and surprise - when I agree to give myself up. He's been chasing me for years, without success; the only way he even knows there's something to chase is when I started getting bored and leaving hints for him.

"On one condition," I continue, trying and failing to stop a smirk from inching its way across my face. I watch Harry Potter's shadow sigh exasperatedly on the opposite wall, his form totally disfigured and eight feet tall from being reflected against the wall.

"Use my name when you tell me to give up." I finish, biting my lip to keep from laughing.

Of course Harry Potter doesn't know my name - I don't even have a pseudonym. He doesn't know my age, either, or how tall I am, or my gender, or my hair colour, or anything else. To him, and to everyone else searching for me, I am completely an enigma. They have no idea who I am or what to even look for. Only, in this case, they know what I'm after.

Harry Potter sighs defeatedly.

"Alright, we'll do this the hard way. If you still haven't come out to give us the books in ten seconds, me and all the Aurors the Ministry has to spare are going to come into that cove, and we are not going to stop searching until we find you. Then, you're going to Azkaban until you give up everything else you've stolen, and then you'll probably stay there for a little while after that for all our troubles we've had finding you."

When he's done his little monologue, Harry Potter waits to hear my response - probably expecting me to be trembling in fear.

I'm laughing - the giggles distorted by my charm to sound a little more ominous and a little less like my laugh, which is something they can potentially recognize me by in the future.

"Oh, Harry Potter," I manage through my chuckles, "It isn't written in your memoirs that you have a sense of humour."

I quickly flick my eyes off Harry Potter's shadow and towards the slytherin-green fire in the centre of the cove, which is slowly growing bigger. I'm just relieved that I've managed to stall enough time for it to get big enough for what I need it for.

"You know there's no way for you to escape from here," Harry Potter says, trying to figure out my plan. "We've cast anti-apparation charms everywhere, we've got Aurors posted in a circle all the way around in case you manage to break through the wall, and it's impossible for you to dig your way out. Where exactly is my humour?"

"Harry Potter, you insult me," I say, trying to sound hurt. "As if I would make my exit in such a common way as something you've seen before like some ordinary criminal."

"What do you mean?" Harry Potter asks, starting to sound frantic even through his attempts to keep a collected composure. "Look, just give us the books and we'll leave you alone, all right? No Azkaban, I promise - just... leave the books here."

"If you insist," I reply. "Like I said, I'll give up, no resistance, if you tell me to by name."

Harry Potter sighs again, deeply, through his nose. Good. "You know I can't."

"Then," I say apologetically, "Sweet dreams."

"Swee-?" Harry Potter says, as his legs buckle underneath him. "Oh, for Merlin's sake..." he yawns, fighting the sleeping powder I put in the fire that turned it green. I laugh freely into my muggle gas mask, also charmed to work as a voice distorter, and it works great at keeping my face completely covered even if they somehow manage to disable my magic.

"Damn Slytherins," Harry Potter mutters as he drifts off. "You're all the same with your sneaky plans and too cowardly to even show your face."

He's desperate; trying to get a rise out of me through my pride, which would work if I were a Slytherin.

"Hey, you're right about that," I grin at him under my mask as I rise from behind the rock, my height and figure reduced to a blurry silhouette through the murky green smoke. "All slytherins are the same."

I walk over him as he closes his eyes and pluck a single hair from his head as he begins to snore. Absolutely adorable, I think sarcastically.

I mix his hair into my pre-made polyjuice potion and two minutes later, I'm the youngest and most talented Head Auror this world has ever seen.

I cast a quick oxygen bubble around my head to keep out the sleeping powder and remove my gas mask, slipping it into Harry Potter's bag, which I remove easily from his sleeping figure. I snag his coat and shrug it on over my plain black hoodie and jeans, and his glasses, too - mostly since his vision is so horrid I'll need them to see my way out.

I'm even nice enough to cover Harry Potter with a thin, commonplace blanket that he'll never be able to trace back to me so he doesn't get cold since I stole his jacket. Even criminals aren't all bad.

Then I walk defeatedly out of the cave and shrug my shoulders at the crowd of waiting Aurors outside. "He had a portkey," I say in Harry Potter's voice, as if it were the most obvious thing they could have overlooked. As if I would ever use a portkey - they're traceable.

The Aurors seem to agree with me, and instantly groan and hit themselves in the head. Kinsgely Shacklebolt comes over to me and pats my shoulder reassuringly. "Don't worry," he says in a deep booming voice that ripples over me, "One of these days he'll slip up, and then we'll get him."

"I suppose so," I sigh, shoving my hands into Harry Potter's coat pockets as hopelessly as I can manage. My hands instinctively close around the objects within his jacket, and I make a mental note to see what's in there later.

"But honestly," I mutter, more to myself than Kingsley to make it sound convincing, "why are even still chasing this guy? We have no clues, no idea who he has or what to even look for. Maybe we should just close this case and put our energy into cases we can actually solve."

"Don't talk like that, Harry," Kingsley says, sounding like a father figure that I realize he probably is to Harry Potter, "Look, everyone makes mistakes. We'll catch him another day, promise. And then he'll rot in Azkaban."

Well, I tried. I shrug to Kingsely, pretending to be reassured and just deep in thought so he'll stop talking to me.

It's not like I'm particularly worried regardless of whether or not they keep chasing me. I'm untraceable, and everything that they don't expect.

"Looks like everyone's apparating back now," Kingsley says to me. "Shall we head back to the Ministry?"

I nod. "I'll be there in a minute," I say, nodding to Kingsley. He nods back, and apparates off.

I'm not actually planning on doing anything, but I know from watching Harry Potter trying to catch me before that he always stays behind at a scene for a minute to see if he missed anything. Besides, I wouldn't want Kingsley to see me use a wand that isn't Harry Potter's when I apparate back.

I apparate to just outside one of the Ministry's entrances, since I know that the Ministry's anti-apparation charms won't recognize my magical signature as Harry Potter's and I'll get caught.

Once I've flushed myself down the toilet and walk out of the Ministry's fireplace, I head purposefully to the Head Auror office. As I get closer, I instinctively start thinking about how I'm going to break in, when it hits me with a thrill that sends shivers down my spine - _I'm_ Harry Potter, or at least I am for the next hour. It's _my_ office.

I reach into Harry Potter's pockets, and sure enough, there's a ring of keys, with one clearly labelled _Office._ I grin to myself. Right now, I'm the Head Auror. I can do anything I want - a dangerous thing for a criminal.

I get to my office and open the door, where Kingsley and a few other Aurors I don't recognize are milling about, waiting for me. I clear my throat to get their attention, smile mischievously when they turn around.

"Auror Potter," one of the Aurors greets me as she turns, confused. "Why didn't you just apparate, sir?"

I shrug noncommittally. "I had something else to take care of on my way over here. Besides, you should have seen the looks on your faces when I came in behind you." I grin, and the other Aurors break into laughter as well.

"Good one, sir," Kingsley chuckles, referring to me more respectfully in front of the others. "We just came in to make sure you came back and didn't forget about another meeting."

"You know me too well, Auror Shacklebolt," I say shaking my head in defeat. "Don't worry, I won't forget. But just in case I do, it's at...?"

Kingsley gives me a look as he breaks into a grin. "It's at three, though I'm certain you already knew that, which is why you won't be late."

The Aurors laugh respectfully again, although their laughter isn't forced. One of the things that makes Harry Potter such a great leader is that he's actually friends with all his employees, and treats everyone equally. They all feel comfortable with me, which works in my advantage. They aren't likely to be suspicious, or at least, not until I don't show up to the meeting.

Unfortunately, my potion will wear off by then, or else I'd love to sit in on classified information.

"Well," I sigh, moving towards Harry Potter's desk, "As much as I'd love to sit around and chat, I've got paperwork to do. See you at three."

"See you then," Kingsley says, and the rest of the Aurors file out of the room. One of them, a redhead, lingers for a second.

"Hey, Harry, you alright? You're not yourself today," he says, concern knitting his brow. I quickly glance at his name plate, which reads _Ron Weasley._

"Yeah, Ron," I say, chastising myself internally for not recognizing him earlier. I have his chocolate frog card and everything. "I'm just a bit beat up about letting this guy slip through our fingers again. I'll be fine by the meeting, I just need some time to myself."

"Alright," Ron shrugs with the ease of someone who's been through it all with me. Which he has, as long as I'm Harry Potter. "Say hi to the kids for me," he smiles as he walks out of the room, closing the door behind him.

And just like that, I'm left standing in the office of the most respected and well-known person in the magical world, left completely to my own devices.

A smile breaks out on my face, which quickly turns into a quiet giggle. "Let's see what you keep in here, Harry Potter," I say out loud to no one. I know there's a silence charm on this room, so I'm not too worried.

I sit at Harry Potter's desk and begin sifting through the drawers. Hey, I have an hour, don't I?

* * *

My lucky galleon heats up in my pocket, signalling that I have ten minutes before my polyjuice potion wears off. I sigh - I'm having the time of my life digging through the personal stuff of the most important person a wizard or witch can think of.

I take Harry Potter's wand out of his coat pocket, which is something I realized too late that I took, and place it on his desk. I've already copied his magical signature to my wand, so now I can use it whenever I please - a thought that makes my heart pump with fear and excitement.

I've also placed copies of all the parchments I found in his office into his briefcase, which was tucked in the corner, and I took a few books that looked important or that I'd never seen before - which is something very rare for me.

I run through all the possible ways they could trace this back to me and figure out who I am and think of none, which means it's time for me to go while I can still walk around in broad daylight as Harry Potter.

It's 2:45, which means that I have fifteen minutes until they realize that Harry Potter is missing and a few more until they figure out where he actually is.

The real Harry Potter shouldn't wake up for another two hours, and even if he does he has no wand and no way of getting off that island until the Ministry rescues him. The fact that I stole it and left him in that predicament by accident makes the situation even funnier.

I put a _Do Not Disturb_ sign on the door, lock it form the inside, and apparate out of the office using Harry Potter's magical signature to Hogsmeade, where I make my way to the Leaky Cauldron to hide in the bathroom until my potion wears off.

I get stopped a few times along the way with people asking for pictures or my autograph, which I politely have to decline. The last thing I need is proof that I was here once the Ministry figures out I'm not who they think I am.

I get to the bathroom with three minutes to spare and lock myself in, stripping out of Harry Potter's coat and glasses and shoving them into my standard-issue Hogwarts schoolbag that I've outfitted with an Undetectable Extension Charm, as well as a Privacy Charm that makes it impossible for anyone but me to access.

I made that one myself, as well as the Trace Blocker that I've attached to my wand, which I now remove. The Trace Blocker is probably the invention that I'm most proud of, which is why I had to give all the credit to my older brother.

My parents would quite literally kill me if I ever told anyone what the small black square I sometimes stick to my wand is or who actually invented it to those who recognize it. It makes sense that they'd want my brother to get the glory, since he's their favourite and I'm their least favourite, and I prefer not having my name attached to anything anyways; that would make me a target, and easier to track down.

The polyjuice potion wears off and I change back to myself with a nauseating ache in my stomach that only worsens as I catch sight of myself in the mirror. No longer Harry Potter, I'm normal again, completely unnoticed and not at all special in any way.

I tie a yellow scarf around my neck that also covers my mouth and nose, tucking the ends into my black hoodie as I pull the hood up over my head.

With that, I'm clear to leave the bathroom again, safely me and completely unsuspicious. After all, I'm just another Hufflepuff, a fourth-year girl from Hogwarts out at Hogsmeade for the weekend. Who would ever suspect me of being the most notorious criminal in the magical world?

I grin to myself and head back out of the Leaky Cauldron and into the bitter cold, burying my face in my yellow-and-black-striped scarf. I'm far underdressed for the late autumn chill, and normally would just take the underground secret entrance from the Leaky Cauldron back to Hogwarts.

But today, I want people to see me, just in case anyone ever questions I was here sometime in the future.

Not that they will, of course.


End file.
